Pulling Tides
by ThoseWhoWander98
Summary: How he yearns to follow the voices of the far-off lands. But would he leave his friends while they yet lived? No. He would wait. A day, a month, a hundred years of men!


"_The Sea, _Gimli! I had no interest in it before, but now..."

Gimli regards his friend apprehensively. "I am afraid that this new, reflective, Sea-longing Legolas is foreign to me. Where is the light heart I once knew, my friend?" he asks, stroking the blade of his axe.

Legolas sighs. He cannot describe the yearning in his heart for the place, the thing he has never seen. The crashing grey, the shining blue, the glimmering white of the Sea calls out to his very soul, it seems. He can hear voices as he rests, Sea-voices, Elven-voices, ever whispering of the promise of beauty, and peace, and prosperity that he will find at the Seashore. His soul seems dry now, with that promise so close, yet so far out of reach.

"The tide of the Sea no longer pushes me away, but pulls me closer. Though I love the forest no less, my peace of heart is in jeopardy, my friend. And though oak and elm are beautiful and as much a part of me as they ever were, I feel that my place is no longer here in Middle-Earth, but in the Grey Havens, the Undying Lands, the Lands of my fathers and their forefathers, the land of past and future," Legolas says wistfully, gazing at the glorious sunset over Fangorn.

Gimli nods. "But you will stay. I can hear it in your voice; you will stay."

"Indeed, I will stay, for what else is there to do? Would you have me abandon our mortal friends while they yet live, leave them while we yet have chance to see them and help them? Nay. I will stay, until the death of the hobbits, the death of King Elessar, and then perhaps, when all strings but the strings of my kin are cut, I will leave. For I know now that I must leave, someday, and someday soon, by Elven time. I cannot resist the call. The Sea seduces me with Her mystery," he finishes, chuckling lightly. "And I would have you come with me, if you so wished."

"Would I ever not go? I would go with my dearest of friends anywhere but to the lands Beyond, where I could not follow," Gimli says solemnly, nodding and stroking his beard.

Legolas laughs lightly. "I doubt that problem will ever trouble your heart, Gimli son of Gloin! For even as we fade, the years of Elves are immeasurable."

Neither friend speaks for a very long time. Legolas lets his thoughts wander back to imagining what it would be like to feel the Sea-foam fly onto his skin, feel the strong Sea-wind whip back his hair. He imagines the soft sand, powder fine, between his toes, the brine in his nostrils and the sounds of gulls, accursed gulls, blessed gulls, gulls who have both ruined his life and yet, born him anew.

And he thinks of leaving his father, his realm, his responsibility to Mirkwood, the rolling hills of the Shire, and the tall trees of the forests, and the Misty Mountains, and the rugged rocks of Rohan, and the smooth green dales of Gondor. He thinks of the Fellowship, of Rivendell, of times that seem a Man's lifetime away, yet only seconds behind him. He ponders the weight on his heart and on his physical being, and he realizes that he is humming the Sea-song, the lilting melody making him melancholy, the nostalgic words matching with the tune in his mind:

_To the Sea! To the Sea! The white gulls are crying,_

_The wind is blowing and the white foam is flying._

_West, west away, the round sun is falling._

_Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling, _

_The voices of my people who have gone before me?_

_I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me,_

_For our days are ending and our years failing._

_I will pass the wide waters, lonely sailing._

_Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling_

_Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling_

_In Eresseaut, in Elvenhome no man can discover, _

_Where the leaves fall not, land of my people forever!_

The beauty of the poetry strikes him, even now. Looking at Gimli, he says, "I will leave. One day soon... I will leave."

"Oh, Gimli!" Legolas cries, spinning round and round with his pleasure and excitement. There is wind whipping around his hair and stinging his eyes, the pungent smell of sea salt in his nostrils, and grain-fine sand is between his toes. He loves it. "Here is the light heart you have missed, friend, it has been waiting for me at the Sea-shore!" He rushes into the water until it is knee-deep.

_I have longed for the Sea, many years, many ways_

_I've been counting the hours, counting the days_

_While I waited and watched for the moment to come_

_When the Sea and I could exist as one!_

"Oh, I'm so happy I could sing! I could compose an entire Elven-song here and now, Gimli! And I shall, if you'll put up with me," he continues, standing still for a moment.

Gimli chuckles as he watches his friend, who can hardly, for all his Elven composure, stand in one spot for more than a minute or two. He wants to smile at Legolas' unrivalled joy, his unreigned emotion. "I would put up with you, Legolas, but we do have a ship we are supposed to be boarding," Gimli says, gesturing to a large grey ship some ways down the shore.

Legolas laughs, as though he is only just remembering. "Then let us board it! And then we may sing, and laugh, and dance, and tell tales, and cry! Then we may feast and celebrate! For what lies out beyond the horizon? Nobody here in Middle-Earth knows, not even the Elves. And yet my curiousity has grown too strong to keep in check any longer. It is time to go. It is time for me to leave this temporary Elf-haven, and to answer the calls of my people in the Grey Lands... It is time to go home, Gimli."


End file.
